Nor Fear the Wolvish Howl
by Erimthar
Summary: After the battle at the Hellmouth, it's time for Anya to deal with some unresolved issues. Title of this story courtesy of William Blake.


Visions of bunnies danced angrily in Anya's head as the world went away.

She wasn't quite sure why she couldn't see anymore, or why things had suddenly gotten so chilly. Oh, she had a full head of steam up, alright. The place was crawling with Bringers, and Andrew was no doubt going to be useless, and she wasn't about to give up and run (again) while Xander stayed and fought.

Reasoning that there must still be Bringers and Turok-han about – probably taking advantage of the sudden darkness – Anya swung her sword blindly. Only to discover that she didn't have a sword anymore. Or, it seemed, an arm to swing it with.

_This isn't good_, she thought to herself. _This isn't good at all. Crapping out at a time like this..._

The world, it seemed, had just exploded from a point somewhere off to the right. Anya had spent centuries as a demon, riding the mystical winds of the multiverse, and she was quite capable of recognizing the blast of super-powerful magic when she felt it.

This was a _hydrogen bomb_ of magic.

Anya tried to see – or _sense_, at least – what was going on around her. There was a tremendous, volcanic, continuous eruption of power somewhere very close by. As she concentrated on projecting her consciousness outward, she became aware that Willow was right at the epicenter of it. And as the shockwave exploded away in all directions, tiny flames of power sprang up here and there with its passing. Each of those flames, Anya knew, was a person. A young woman. A Slayer.

Dozens of them. Hundreds. Thousands?

Forcing herself to remain calm, Anya took a mental inventory of all her friends. With great relief, she sensed Xander nearby, still alive and well. Dawn, not far away from him. Somewhere down below, a blazing little crowd of Slayers fought to hold back a tidal wave of darkness. Buffy and Faith were both there, burning even brighter than the others. Anya sensed Buffy taking a horrible wound, one that should have killed her, but the tsunami of power washing through her simply overwhelmed the damage. Her supernatural Slayer healing was accelerated to unbelievable levels, and Anya could practically feel Buffy's vital organs knitting themselves back together.

"You did it, Willow," Anya muttered to herself in wonder.

Minutes later, there was a tremendous flash of light, and she felt herself buffeted even harder than before. "Sweet mother of _crap_!" she screamed into the hurricane. "There goes another one. Did you guys hire a pantheon of gods to handle your magical artillery? And why didn't anyone tell me?"

The double firestorm of magic began to fade into the distance. Or... Anya began to fade into the distance. Hard to tell which.

She was a little bit grateful that she seemed to have no eyes right now. She really hated to cry. "Goodbye, Xander," she whispered. "I think I really did love you, you know. You probably _don't_ know, because I'm stupid, and so are you. Goodbye, everybody. Thank you for being my friends, in spite of... everything."

And then, she was gone.

*****

"If this were a cartoon," she was saying to herself, "There would be clouds and pearly gates, and a long line of people, and an old man with a white beard sitting behind a desk. I'd walk up to the desk, and the old man would shake his head and pull a lever, and a trap door would open in the clouds and I'd fall through it into Hell and get poked by a red cartoon devil."

"Well, the jury is out on whether or not this is a cartoon," came a voice from nearby. "But you do have to wonder, with such ridiculous imagery as that, how they manage to assign any seriousness at all to their Judeo-Christian mythology."

Anya sighed in irritation and rubbed her temples (surprised to find that she actually had temples to rub). "This is just wonderful," she said, "and I mean that in an ironic sense. I was hoping that dying would be the worst thing to happen to me today, but now I have to listen to you talk."

"Oh, come now. It could be worse." D'Hoffryn stepped out of the shadows of wherever they were. "You could have survived and spent several more years lurching from one comical _faux pas_ to another in your amusing attempts to be human again. You haven't been human for over a thousand years, and you weren't very good at it back then, either. You may be dead and in Hell, Anyanka, but at least here you have your dignity. At least here, you belong."

"Dignity," Anya repeated, looking down at herself. "Is that what you call me sitting here stark naked while you leer at me? I'm perfectly aware that I have very nice, full breasts, and also beautiful, creamy thighs. Xander told me so on several occasions. Usually followed by licking and various forms of kissing, resulting in orgasm within five to ten minutes."

D'Hoffryn rolled his eyes. "I believe that's what the young people today call _too much information_," he said. "And you might give some thought as to how you happen to currently possess such admirable bits of anatomy, considering your present condition."

Anya thought about it. She poked and prodded herself experimentally.

"I was killed, wasn't I?"

D'Hoffryn nodded. "The breasts and thighs your... _boyfriend_... admired so much are currently lying several yards apart at the bottom of a large crater. An impressive bit of magic, there, I must admit. The crater, I mean, not your vivisection. I'll have to remember to exercise some caution if I have to deal with your friends again in the future."

"So why do I have a body?"

"Think of it as a down payment," D'Hoffryn answered. "I want you to come back and work for me again, Anyanka."

"Forget it. You can have this body back. Take it."

"Anyanka, I...."

"I don't want to hear it. You turned me into a killer. You're the reason I'm here and not standing on a cloud in a white dress playing a cartoon harp."

"Now, you know perfectly well..."

"So, you want to play baseball, do you? Fine. I'm going to hold my breath until I suffocate and die again." Anya took a deep breath and held it, crossing her arms stubbornly.

"Baseball?" D'Hoffryn was perplexed.

"She means hardball," came another voice from the shadows... also familiar, but feminine.

Anya let her breath out in a noisy rush. "Hallie?" she whispered.

The owner of the feminine voice stepped into view... a beautiful dark-haired, dark-eyed woman in a lovely antique gown.

"_Hallie_!" Anya rushed forward and threw her arms around her best friend of nearly two centuries.

"Nice to see you, too, dear," Halfrek said, putting her arms around Anya and trying not to let her hands come to rest anywhere too personal. "Normally I'd say naked-body sweat and taffeta don't mix, but under the circumstances, I think we can let it go."

"Oh, shut up about your stupid dress," Anya said. "What happened? You were dead."

"Yes, but, you know," Hallie sighed, "that's not really a career-ending injury for us, is it?"

"Halfrek is here as a peace offering," D'Hoffryn said. "I know the two of you were close, and I wouldn't want that unfortunate vaporization incident to poison you against the idea of coming back to work for me. Halfrek's soul belongs to me, of course, dead or alive. I simply created a replacement body for her, the same as I've done for you. Also, a bit of accounting. I released you from your servitude in return for the life and soul of a vengeance demon... hers. By returning her to life, I've now returned that payment, and paved the way for us to render that transaction null and void."

Anya's gaze hardened. "So you're going to kill her again if I say no? Is that it?"

D'Hoffryn sighed. "Actually, I was hoping you might serve as good influences on one another. You seem to have a connection – perhaps you'd work well as a team. You really could learn a lot from this one, Anyanka."

"I've already learned from her what kind of person you are, D'Hoffryn."

"What kind of person?" D'Hoffryn widened his eyes in comic horror. "A veritable _demon_, perhaps? I would have thought the horns and cloven hooves were a dead giveaway, but I suppose it's gratifying to know you don't subscribe to stereotypes."

"Maybe you should listen to him, Anya," Halfrek said, giving Anya a level gaze. "Listen to him, and tell him honestly what you think."

"Yes," D'Hoffryn agreed. "Words of wisdom, gained through experience and native talent. Did Halfrek ever tell you that she was my very first vengeance demon? Her name was Julia back then. I'd never seen such strength in a woman... especially a civilized, city-bred woman. And I'd never seen such burning rage within a soul when her father pulled her from the arms of the man she loved and forced her into a loveless, political marriage. So Brutus lost a lover, Pompey gained a trophy, and Julia saw all her life's hopes and dreams shattered in the name of political convenience. Recruiting her was the most brilliant move I'd ever made. We staged a 'death in childbirth' for her, and she proceeded to set in motion a plan so devious, so clever and so perfect that it still takes my breath away to think about it.

"It culminated, on the Ides of March, with the world's most powerful man lying dead on the pavement of the Theatrum Pompeium... killed by a virtual consensus of his own friends, many of whom would have laid down their lives for him a year earlier. It was a big win for everyone. The Germanic shamans who summoned me were rid of their greatest enemy, western civilization gained one hell of a story, and Julia here was rid of her hated father..."

"...And saw all her life's hopes and dreams shattered in the name of political convenience," Anya finished.

D'Hoffryn glowered at her darkly. But over his shoulder, Hallie was smirking. It was a smirk Anya had seen before, many times. It had directly preceded some of history's most appalling moments.

"I've given neither of you anything you haven't asked for," D'Hoffryn said, his voice growing dangerous. "That's what we do. We grant wishes. We give people what they ask for. And we provide a service for the universe by eliminating those who are too stupid to ask for what they really want. We cull the herd of arrogant idiots."

"Oh, spare me, you goat-faced conglomeration of manure," Anya snapped, ignoring D'Hoffryn's almost comical look of astonishment and Hallie's barely-suppressed giggle. "Evil I can understand, but evil that tries to convince itself it's good... that's just _sad_. Why don't you just grow yourself a nice proud mustache of evil that you can twirl, and leave the moralizing to somebody with morals? I wasted the thousand best years of my life tricking people into making mistakes I could punish them for, and I've had enough. I'm not working for you again, so go ahead and kill me. I've been practicing my death scenes today, you see."

D'Hoffryn shook his head. "I'm disappointed. I really am. I thought after all these centuries you'd have learned something about how I operate. The last time you tried to nobly sacrifice yourself, you ended up not-so-nobly sacrificing your best friend instead. This time, though, I don't think that will be quite enough. Oh, I'll kill Halfrek again... easy come, easy go. But then I think I'll let you watch while I eliminate your mortal friends as well. They're mourning you right now, did you know that? We'll see if they still have such tender feelings for you a few days from now."

Anya crossed her arms and smiled. "I think I like their chances. They did just defeat the First Evil itself, in case you were too busy over-acting to pay attention. And that was before they had a couple thousand brand-new Slayers to help out."

"My army of demons," D'Hoffryn mused. "Against her army of Slayers. What a top-of-the-bill event that will be. Let's see just how much of the world we can burn down between us. All in the interests of justice, of course. After all, if there's anything the Slayer and I agree on, it's that justice is important."

"Very humorous," sighed Anya. "I wish you could spend the rest of eternity living out all the lives we ruined in the name of your _justice_."

"Done," said Halfrek brightly.

The other two both turned to stare at her.

"Oh," said D'Hoffryn. "You've got to be...."

There was a flash of magic, and Hallie and Anya were alone.

Just like that.

Hallie smiled at Anya. "I've got to be bored silly is what I've got to be."

Anya gaped at her. "What... what just happened?"

"I did my job, sweetie. You threw the pitch, and I connected. Hardball."

"But... how... you used his own vengeance magic against him?"

"It was never _his_ magic, as much as he'd like us to think so. Vengeance magic has been around a lot longer than he has. He may have figured out how to harness it, but the rules are the rules. D'Hoffryn forgot... I've known him for two thousand years. Long before this Mighty Lord Lucifer act he's affected to scare the yokels. I know how much of him is real and how much is hype."

"I don't believe it," Anya marvelled. "Did you know this would happen?"

"Sooner or later," Hallie shrugged. "You don't grow up in Julius Caesar's household without learning a little something about how stupid men get when the Testosterone Fever starts burning. Nice job with that, by the way. You're very good at provoking people, you know it?"

"So I've been told." Anya beamed. "We're free, Hallie."

"A little _too_ free in your case. We need to see about getting you some clothes. Though I must say... your boyfriend was right about your breasts and creamy thighs."

"Xander." Anya's elation slipped. "I don't suppose I'll be able to go back...?"

Hallie shook her head. "These bodies are only solid in the afterlife dimensions, I'm afraid. D'Hoffryn, as usual, was overstating his power. Back in that world, we'd just be ghosts. Invisible, unable to affect anything or touch anything..."

"...Or have sex with anything," Anya sighed sadly.

"Which reminds me," Hallie said. "D'Hoffryn was right about one thing. We make a pretty good team, you and I. Wanna stick together and see where the Spirit Wind blows us?"

"I think my schedule is clear," Anya said. "Hey. Why does _sex_ remind you of us making a good team?"

"Hey, look over there," Hallie said. "It's a portal I just opened to another dimension. Probably a more fun one than this. Last one through is a slightly rottener egg than the other."

"Oh, I call _demon girls' night out_," Anya cried. They both leaped through the portal and into a multiverse that was blissfully unaware of what it was getting itself into.


End file.
